


Dr Combeforrible's Sing Along Blog

by StarshipRangerBoyWonder



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarshipRangerBoyWonder/pseuds/StarshipRangerBoyWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr Combeforrible has some evil plans up his sleeve. Plus, he's gonna get the girl (Eponine), join Bad Javorse, and destroy Captain Montparnammer because the status is NOT quo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“AAAHHHH HA HA HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!” Dr Combeforrible laughed sinisterly, the sound bouncing off the walls of his lab. There was a camera and a laptop sitting on his desk. A blue couch was against the wall in the back ground, along with a large dry erase board. A kitchen door was visible with all of its pots and pans and red fridge covered in evil notes and evil shopping lists. Jars and beakers and test tubes lined the walls, each filled with different bubbling liquids.

“So that’s, you know… coming along,” he shared into the camera, nodding awkwardly. “I’m working with a vocal coach; strengthening the “AAHHH.” A lot of guys ignore the laugh, and that’s about standards. If you’re going to get into the Evil League of Evil, I mean you have to have a memorable laugh. What do you think Bad Javorse didn’t work on his whinny?”

Dr Combeforrible took a second to look dramatically into the distance and pay his silent respects to the most terrible of the terrible: Bad Javorse.

“His terrible death whinny…” he murmured to the air.

“No response, BTW from the League yet, but, my application is strong this year,” he said confidently, “a letter of condemnation from the deputy mayor. That’s got to have some weight, so, fingers crossed.”

There was an awkward silent pause.

“EMAILS!” he exclaimed, going for a stack of paper on his desk. He began reading the first one. “2sly4you writes: ‘Hey Genious’ Wow! Sarcasm. That’s _original_!”

He paused to notice his hypocritical statement.

“‘Where are the gold bars you were supposed to pull out of that bank vault with your trans-matter ray? Obviously it failed or it would be in the papers,’” Dr Comboferrible rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Well no, they’re not going to say anything in the press. But, BEHOLD! Transported from there to here.”

Dr Combeforrible reached off camera and brought into view a Ziploc bag filled with a metallic looking liquid inside. His eyes examined the contents while his finger poked at it.

“The molecules tend to shift during the trans-matter… um… event, but they were transported _in bar form_ and they clearly were… And by the way it’s not about making money. It’s about taking money. Destroying the status quo because the ‘status’ is not ‘quo’. The world is a mess and I just need to… RULE it. I’m gonna…”

His indignant rant slowly faded as he sniffed at the bag.

“That smells like cumin,” he said, setting it down and facing back to his camera. “So, Trans-matter is 75% and more importantly the Freeze-Ray is almost up. This is the one. Stops time. Freeze ray. Tell your friends.”

The email’s paper dropped and he shifted through the other papers. His face lit up when he saw a certain one, and he read with mock excitement.

“We have… OH! Here’s one from our good friend Johnny Snow. ‘Dr Combeforrible. I see you are once again to do battle with you nemesis. I waited at Dooley Park for 45 minutes…’ Okay, _dude_ , you’re _not_ my nemesis. My nemesis… is Captain Montparnammer. Captain Montparnammer, Corporate _tool_. He dislocated my shoulder… again… last week. LOOK! I’m just trying to change the world, okay? I don’t have time for a grudge match with every poser in a parka. Besides, there’s kids in that park so… Here’s one from DeadNotSleeping. ‘Long time watcher, first time writing.’ Blah blah blah blah… ‘You always say on your blog that you will ‘show her the way, show her you are a true villain.’ Who is ‘her’ and does she even know that you’re…’”

_Wearing “regular everyday human clothes and not an evil lab coat of evil,” Dr Combeforrible carried his laundry basket into the Laundromat. It was across the street from his apartment building, and he could see it from his window at home. He pushed into the door and felt his breath hitch in his throat when he caught sight of her… Eponine…_

_“Laundry Day. See you there._  
Underthings...tum-b-ling.  
  
Wanna say "Love your hair."  
Here I go (mmmrrhhrr) mum-b-ling.  
  
With my freeze ray I will stop - the world.  
  
With my freeze ray I will find the time to find the words to  
  
Tell you how. How you make.  
Make me feel. What's the phrase?  
  
Like a fool. Kinda sick.  
Special needs. Anyways.  
  
With my freeze ray I will stop - the pain.  
  
It's not a death ray or an ice beam, that's all Johnny Snow.  
  
I just think you need time to know  
That I'm the guy to make it real.  
The feelings you don't dare to feel.  
I'll bend the world to our will  
And we'll make Time stand ... sti - ll.  
  
That's the plan. Rule the world.  
You and me. Any day.  
Love your hair.”

_“What?”_

_“No, I, I, I love the air. Anyway._

With my Freeze-Ray I will stop…”


	2. Bad Javorse

Meauxst, Dr Combeforrible’s evil henchman, entered the lab, interrupting and ending his song.

“Hey Doc,” he greeted, waving weakly.

“Meauxst!” said the Dr, turning off the camera and spinning in his chair to face his friend slash henchman slash roommate. “My evil, moisture buddy. What’s going on?”

“Life of crime,” he answered. “Got your mail.”

He handed Dr Combeforriblle a stack of soggy mail then headed over to the couch to sit down.

“Hey, didn’t you, uh, didn’t you go on a date last night?” said Comboferrible, trying to make conversation. “Courfayrict Diamond told me you were doubling with Joly’N’Chetta.”

“Yeah…” he answered softly.

“Yeah?”

“It was alright,” he continued, “I kinda thought I was supposed to end up just with Joly, but…”

“I hear ya,” Combeforrible laughed. “I saw Eponine today.”

“You talk to her?”

“So close. I’m just a few weeks away from real, audible, connection.” His face lit up as he sorted the mail, “Oh my god!”

“Is that from the League?”

“It’s from him,” he breathed, holding up the letter and looking at the horseshoe seal. “That’s his seal, isn’t it?”

“The leader! Oh my god!” Meauxst gasped.

“I got a letter from Bad Javorse…”

“That’s so hardcore,” Meauxst said. “Bad Javorse is like, a legend, man. He rules the League with an iron fist… hoof… yeah… I’m not lucky enough to get one of those. Are you sure you wanna…?”

The Bad Javorse Chorus appears, three strapping young men who looked very European in their Western getup (except for member Jehan had a flowery pink cowboy hat). Combeforrible mouthed the words as he read them, but the chorus sang them loud and clear:

“ _Bad Javorse_  
Bad Javorse  
Bad Javorse  
  
He rides across the nation  
The thoroughbred of sin  
He got the application  
That you just sent in  
  
It needs evaluation  
So let the games begin  
A heinous crime, a show of force  
A murder would be nice of course  
  
Bad Javorse  
Bad Javorse  
Bad Javorse  
He’s Bad  
  
The Evil League of Evil  
Is watching so beware  
The grade that you receive  
Will be your last we swear  
  
So make the Bad Javorse gleeful  
Or he’ll make you his mare...  
  
You’re saddled up  
There’s no recourse  
It’s Hi-Ho Silver  
Signed, Bad Javorse!”

The Chorus cleared their throats and left out the door, member Enjolras shooting him a thumbs up. An awkward silence filled the air, and Dr Combeforrible straightened the welcome mat with his foot.

“It’s not a ‘no’,” Meauxst pointed out with a shrug.

“Are you kidding?” the villain chuckled, relieved and full of joy, “This is great! I am about to pull a major heist.”

“So maje.”

“Yes; anyway, you know the Wonderflonium I need for the Freeze Ray? It’s being transported tomorrow.”

“Armored car?”

Combeforrible grinned smugly. “Courier van.”

“Candy from a baby,” replied Meauxst, returning the smirk. “You need anything dampened, or made soggy, or…?”

“Thanks, but the League is watching! I must go!”

“Alone?”

“So alone.”

Dr Combeforrible strutted to the door and flung it open, proceeding to step outside and slam it proudly. However, no noise was made, because the welcome mat was stuck under the door by the corner. The villain sighed in anguish and reopened the door, bending down and struggling with the welcome mat. After much fumbling, he threw-slash-slid it across the floor. The door was re-slammed, and Meauxst could hear the villain walking down the hall, yelling:

“Damn that mat!”


	3. Chapter 3

Outside the apartment building, draped in a tattered quilt, was Éponine, a poor young woman who, despite all that she wished she owned and all that she did not have, would still give to those needier than her – sometimes even people more fortunate and privileged. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, so that strands fell before her eyes. Within her tiny, grey fingers were flyers – obviously made with word and clip art – talking about a new place for a soup kitchen. Éponine held her flyers out to all passing, each a privileged person who would come home to a warm bed and full fridge, her eyes full of hope.

“ _Will you lend a caring hand_  
To shelter those who need it  
Only have to sign your name  
Don’t even have to read it  
  
Would you help… No? How about you?”

People walked by, not sparing her or her flyers a glance. This wasn’t as horrid as when people did look at her and her flyers, then purposely avoided her – mumbling, “Don’t make eye contact, just keep moving.”

Down the stairs and into the alley came Dr Combeforrible, only he didn’t look like Dr Combeforrible at all, and more like… more like… well, more like your average young man who wouldn’t be wasting time on evil experiments when there are footballs to catch and barbecues to buy. This was all part of the Dr’s plan, of course, and he smirked at his genius to wear what he called the “Combeferre persona,” a somewhat dorky guy with thick framed glasses and a large collection of flannels. Although… Combeferre did not differ from Combeforrible too terribly much, because despite appearance they were very much in possession of the same mind.

Still, cackling, Combeferre retrieved the receiver from his duffel bag and threw it at the van that would hold the ingredient he so desperately needed. The machine attached to the vehicle and clamped into place, the program appearing on the villain’s phone, complete with a flashing green box reading SYNCED.

“ _Will you lend a caring han_ –”

“Ah! Aaah!” Startled, Combeferre tossed his phone upward. Éponine made a move to catch it, but the villain snatched it mid-air. “Ah! Ah… Hah! What?” Combeferre’s eyes widened in shock, blue orbs becoming simple rings around a blown pupil. He felt his knees shake under him and the phone in his hands began to slip once again. There she was! She was just _standing_ there, moving her mouth and tongue and actually _talking_ to him! Why did she choose _now_ to talk to him, when he was focusing more on the phone in his hand and the van across the street than on this wonderful woman before him?

Éponine drew back slightly, probably a little shocked, but carried on like the trooper she was, presenting him with one of her flyers. “I was wondering if I could… could…” her words slowed, and she began to study his face. “Hey! I know you!”

She began smiling, and that was end for Combeferre. We’re talking game over, man, game over! Danger danger, Will Robinson! Everything he said came out in jumbled waves of words, like so: “Hello. You know me? Cool. I mean, yeah, you do. Do you?”

“From the Laundromat?” she guessed with a grin.

 Combeferre began to ramble nervously again, first absentmindedly; “Wednesdays and Saturdays, except twice last month you skipped the weekend,” then flustered; “Or, if that was you. It could have been somebody else. I mean, I’ve seen you,” and finally, his saving grace, somewhat _suave_ ; “Combeferre is my name.”

“I’m Éponine,” she replied. The young woman stared at him, how he didn’t even seem to care she was there. Combeferre kicked himself mentally for each button he pressed on the controls instead of _speaking to Éponine_. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, texting, you know,” he replied prior to it dawning on him that texting was still, if not more, rude. “It’s very important or I would stop. Mom… hospital…”

“Oh! What happened?”

“Oh, you know…” mumbled Combeferre, constructing something quickly, “hit by a shark.”

“Excuse me?” Éponine questioned, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Like, she was swimming and stuff and a shark just… hit her… I suppose… What are you doing?”

“Actually, I’m out here volunteering for the Caring Hands Homeless Shelter. Can you spare a minute?”

“Just about… OK, go.”

“OK, well, umm, we’re hoping to open up a new location soon, expand our efforts. There’s this great building nearby that the city is just going to demolish and turn into a parking lot,” she pulled out a clip board and petition, with five names scrawled on it already, “but if we get enough signatures…”

On reflex, Combeferre scoffed. “Signatures?”

Éponine nodded slowly. “Yeah, signatures.”

“I’m sorry, go on…”

“Right… I was saying, um, maybe we could get the city to donate the building to our cause. We would be able to provide 250 new beds,” she continued, but, again, slowed down as Combeferre became distracted by his phone’s beeping. “Get people off the streets and into job training so they could… buy rocket packs and go to Kansas and become… sales associates… You’re not really interested in the homeless, are you?”

“No, I am!” Combeferre insisted. “Love the homeless. Go… homeless… The… The issue is that they’re a symptom. You’re feeding the symptom and thus the disease rages on, consumes the human race. Like… the fish rots from the head, you know, they say that somewhere, so I think why not just cut off the head?”

“From the human race?” Éponine said, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

“It’s not a perfect metaphor,” he admitted, “but I’m hoping the message got across. I’m talking about an overhaul of the system. Putting the power in a different pair of hands.”

“I’m for that, I guess,” she said. “But this petition, it’s for the building…”

“I’d love to sign,” he blurted, taking the pen and scratching his name on the line (as well as adding Meauxst and his mother’s (for the cause, people)). “Sorry I come on strong.”

“But you signed,” she murmured, looking at the petition with a toothy grin.

“Wouldn’t want to turn my back on a fellow laundry person…” Combeferre chuckled nervously.

“I’ll see you there… Maybe we could…”

“No, I will, I’ll…” He became distracted by the Wonderflonium being packed into the van. Éponine, taken aback and exhausted from a simple attempt at conversation, sighed and left. “I’ll just… She’s gone… She talked to me. Why did she talk to me now? I could probably… Maybe I should…”

For a split second, love triumphed all, and the Wonderflonium would have escaped his horrible grasp, but Combeferre’s heart could not paramount his need to join the Evil League of Evil, and soon the villain re-emerged as Dr Combeforrible!

“ _A man's gotta do_  
what a man's gotta do  
Don't plan the plan  
If you can't follow through  
  
All that matters  
Taking matters into your own hands  
Soon I'll control everything  
My wish is your command – woAH!”

A large figure collided with his somewhat thin frame, and sent Dr Combeforrible tripping over his duffel bag. The remote control stopped working. ‘Why won’t this thing work?’ he thought, pressing and banging his phone in hopes the SYNCED button would once again light up. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

“ _Stand back Everyone,  
Nothin here to see_ …”

“Oh, no…”

“ _Just imminent danger  
In the middle of it, me_ …”

“Please, not this bitch.”

“Yes! _Captain Montparnammer's here  
Hair Blowing in the Breeze_ …”

“Kill me now!”

“ _The day needs my saving expertise_!  
  
 _A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do_  
It seems destiny ends with me saving you  
The only doom that's looming is you loving me to death  
So I'll give you a sec to catch your breath!”

Combeforrible gasped as the van spiralled out of control and nearly hit an unsuspecting citizen, no, unsuspecting _love of his life_. The controls connected at the last minute and the villain stopped the van, gasping for breath and searching for Éponine. Captain Montparnammer stood up from a pile of trash bins and garbage bags, revealing the young woman slumped among them like another sack of unwanted things.

“You idiot!” he shouted, walking into view.

“Dr Combeforrible,” boomed (well, no really, he just talked with an incredibly loud and obnoxious voice) Montparnammer. “I should have known you were behind this.”

“You almost killed her!” the villain whined.

The hero shrugged pompously. “I remember it differently.”

Dr Combeforrible began walking toward Éponine. “Is she… ugh!”

Thick fingers locked around his neck, and he felt his feet leave the ground. His own fingers grabbed at the strong hand currently ceasing all air flow in his body.

“It’s curtains for you, Dr Combeforrible,” growled Captain Montparnammer. “Lacy, gently wafting curtains.”

He had to stop struggling and, you know, _dying_ for a couple seconds to try and accept that statement for what it was, and despite the ability to just forget it and return to the whole villain v. hero thing they were doing, he couldn’t resist going, “Whuh?” in a strangled voice.

“I really don’t… Look! She’s getting up!”

Éponine stood up, took one look at Captain Montparnammer being heroic and battling a villain, and broke Combeforrible’s heart in the most painful of ways; falling in love.

“ _Thank you Hammer-Man_  
I don't think I can  
Explain how important it was  
That you stopped the van  
  
I would be splattered  
I'd be crushed into debris  
Thank you sir for saving me.”

“Don't worry about it – _A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do_ …”

“ _You came from above_ …”

“Are you kidding?”

“ _It seems destiny ends with me saving you_ …”

“ _I wonder what you're captain of_?”

“What heist were you watching? Stop looking at her like that!”

“ _When you're the best you can't rest, what's the use_?”

“ _My heart is beating like a drum_ …”

“ _Did you notice that he threw you_ **in the garbage**?”

“ _If there's ass needs kicking some ticking bomb to defuse_ …”

“ _Must be_ … _Must be in shock_ …”

“ _I stopped the van_! The remote control was in my hand!”

“ _The only doom that's looming is you loving me to death_!”

“ _Assuming I'm not loving you to death_ …”

“Whaat-e-verrrr…”

“ _So please give me a sec to catch my breath_ …”

Combeforrible grabbed the Wonderflonium bitterly and left, taking one look at the pair with disgust. Why do the good guys always get the good things? He wasn’t a bad person. He was three times the man Montparnammer was; he was just evil. There is a difference, you know. It didn’t matter now, did it, though? He’d ruined all of his chances with Éponine for both identities. She thought Combeferre was a jerk and Combeforrible a losing villain. Only one word could give his emotions justice: “Balls.”


End file.
